


When You Need A Hand

by HypotheticalWoman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, Enthusiastic Consent, Handcuffs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV Second Person, Prosthesis, Restraints, Rimming, Shiro's New Hand, because once a filthy homestuck always a filthy homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman/pseuds/HypotheticalWoman
Summary: He's been there for hours and due to Altean magic, you can evenfeelhow tight he is around your index finger, feel his body jerk when you curl your finger inside him-'Captain Shirogane?'You come back to Earth with a bump and focus on Veronica. Oh, damn, that's Lance'ssister. 'Sorry, Veronica. You were saying?'Lance is in cuffs again, and Shiro's in meetings - this time, Lance has Shiro's flashy new hand to keep him company, and Shiro just wants to get the morning over with.





	When You Need A Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a break from the longfic I'm writing (don't worry, I _will_ get to it!) so I wrote this pure smut. Honestly I'm not sure why there aren't more fics involving Shiro's new hand or the fact that Lance seems to end up cuffed so often, but there we go. Enjoy!

You have no idea how you get through that meeting, but you do. You know you're flushed to the ears because Allura asks you if you're alright or if having a pink neck is a sign of some virulent human disease - you tell her you had a mild allergic reaction to something in the cafeteria, and thankfully, she believes you.

Iverson, on the other hand, looks at you, and at the faint sheen of sweat, and your slightly awkward stance, and most of all at the fact that you haven't brought your new right arm with you today, and he gives you a look that tells you that he's only not asking questions because he already suspects what the hideous, hideous answers will be.

Of course _Allura_ asks about the arm. The only thing you can think of to tell her is that you need to just be you sometimes, with as little machinery as possible. She believes this, too, which is great, because you'd hate it if she found out where her creation is right now.

For a moment, you allow yourself to think about it yourself - about Lance on his back with those impossibly long legs spread, wrists cuffed to the headboard and your arm between his thighs, slick fingers pushing into him and preparing him for your return. He's been there for hours and due to Altean magic, you can even _feel_ how tight he is around your index finger, feel his body jerk when you curl your finger inside him-

'Captain Shirogane?'

You come back to Earth with a bump and focus on Veronica. Oh, damn, that's Lance's _sister_. 'Sorry, Veronica. You were saying?'

'I was saying if you want I can send you the minutes of this meeting, but we're just about done. Um, are you sure you're alright?'

'I promise I'm just fine, and I'd appreciate that very much. Thankyou. Thanks for being here, everyone.' Your goodbye is a little more hasty than normal, but your self-control is enough that your path back to your quarters is no faster than a controlled march. You take a deep breath, make sure the corridor is empty, and open the door.

The sight that greets you is even better than you thought it would be. Lance looks _wrecked_. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he's clearly come once already, spatters of milky white against the warm coffee brown of his stomach, and now he's writhing desperately, rocking his hips down on your hand, trying to bring himself off a second time. By the look of it he's getting there too, face flushed and turned to his raised arm to gnaw lightly on his bicep.

He's obviously _way_ too far gone to have heard you come in, so you take the opportunity and watch him for a moment, licking your lips and letting your gaze linger on the way his feet scrabble on the mattress, trying to pull against a partner that offers no purchase. You thank Iverson once more for all the military discipline he's trained into you, otherwise all these desperate little grunts Lance is making would have you on your knees. As it is you can't help but rub at yourself a little, your gaze lingering on the way his stomach muscles move as he arches and flexes his back.

You turn your arm, so that you can caress the base of his cock with your thumb, and he jumps violently and turns frantic blue eyes on you. Stares a moment, then laughs hoarsely. ''Bout damn _time_ ,' he croaks. 'Anyone notice?'

You're already crossing the room, unbuttoning the front of your jacket as you go. 'No. Well... Iverson could probably tell, but he knows better than to ask.'

Lance gives you a look that suggests he's maybe got an issue with Iverson knowing about his sex life, but you lean down and kiss it off his face, working your finger a little faster, and he immediately forgets what the problem was. He has a new one now, arching and thrashing and trying to sit up into your embrace, but the cuffs are from the hold of the Red Lion and even better than Garrison standard, and they hold steady. He could just press the panic button, of course, it's up there on the headboard where he can reach it - but he hasn't and he doesn't. Instead he leans up as best he can and you take it, you lick into the kiss and he tastes like peppermint lip gloss and adoration. When you pull back, real hand ruffling through his hair, you're surprised to find him crying.

'Lance? Baby?'

'Shiro... please, let me touch you, I'll be good, I'll be _so_ good, I'll do anything you want, I promise, I need you, ple-he-heease...' Lance is ugly-crying, only nothing about him could ever be ugly, cheeks wet with tears, pleading with you... You think about it. You only had him cuffed so he wouldn't wear himself out before you got here, really, and also because he'd begged you for weeks to let him try it in the first place.

You pull your hand out of him, watching him arch and wail as you drag your fingertip along his prostate nice and slow. His stomach muscles twitch, you wipe your hand on the bedclothes, and place a palm either side of his head. He looks up at you, panting, waiting for retribution or benediction, whichever you feel like handing out.

Handing, hah.

You don't want to be cruel to Lance. Maybe if he asked it of you, but you'd have to work your way up to it. You like it much better when he's happy. You rub the tears off his cheeks with your thumb and kiss him again, barely a brush of lip on lip, and let him chase it up a bit.

'Does it hurt?' you ask, and nuzzle under his ear. 'How are your arms feeling?'

'Nooo _aaahh_...' He kicks a little, then settles, frowning and tipping his chin up so you can reach more of his lovely long neck. 'No, my arms are fine, but I wanna _touch_ you, _pleeeease_ , Shiro!'

'I'll uncuff you in a little bit,' you say tenderly, and get an indignant howl in response. For that, you shush him by laying a metal fingertip on his lips - you give him a second to realise that was the finger that was just inside him, good thing Lance is always so particular about his personal hygiene - then you say, 'Let me love you properly for a bit first. You've been _so_ good and _so_ patient, waiting all morning for me to get back.'

Lance glares at you, eyes burning like gas flames, but as you strip off your jacket and undershirt his gaze becomes less put-out and more longing, and by the time you're pulling off your boots he's watching your every movement and chewing a little on his lower lip.

'Shiro... babe... you were thinking about me, right?'

The question takes you off-guard, the wistfulness of it, the fact that he could possibly be uncertain for a single half-tick that you weren't thinking about him, especially today. You blink stupidly at him for a long moment, then realise the question absolutely _must_ be answered. 'Lance - of course I was! I couldn't think about anything else!'  
You undo your fly and shuck off your pants, underwear and socks in one go. Normally you'd take your time, but now it's very important that you be on the bed with him. His eyes scan your body up and down, but they're fixed on your face as you join him on the mattress, and they're far too anxious. You cup his face in your real hand and kiss him, but you know that isn't enough.

'I had to do three seperate meetings this morning and I couldn't concentrate on any of them,' you say. 'I kept thinking of you, lying here with your legs spread, being opened out by my hand - I could feel your body move and I kept imagining what sounds you were making, how hard you'd be, how I'd just get through this last meeting and then come back and lick the sweat off your thighs.' You laugh softly. 'Your sister's going to have to send me transcripts of every meeting today. I don't remember _anything_.'

His expression tells you that was exactly the right thing to say. You have your cocky, triumphant Lance back, the boy who knows he has you twisted round his elegant fingers, cuffs or no cuffs. 'Oh, well, in that case I think you'd better come here and lick, beautiful,' he says, and he lets his knees fall out to each side, lazily spreading himself out for you as if - as if he lay this way to watch TV, or something. It's the most heart-stoppingly sensual sight you've ever seen in your life and you can't do anything but obey him.

When you lick up the mess of sweat and jizz on his inner thigh he arches up towards you and whines softly, and you can't help but moan a little against his heated skin in reply. Your metal hand reaches between your own legs and you feel him stiffen against your lips.

' _Hey_. All that time you spent working me up, and you're gonna make me watch you get _yourself_ off? Seriously?'

You chuckle. 'You have a point. Sorry, love, it won't happen again.'

' _Thank_ you.' He swallows hard and shifts his hips, you don't have to look up to know he's watching you, you can feel the intensity in his gaze, burning into the back of your head. You turn his leg outwards a little in both hands so you can lick right into the crease of his pelvis. His cock, hard and dark against his stomach, brushes against the side of your face and up above you, you hear him groan and want to hear more. So you kiss his hole, where he's still tight despite lying here all morning with your thick metal finger inside him. He yelps in surprise and bucks suddenly, you look up. In your concern it takes you a moment to notice that he just kicked you in the shoulder but that's not an issue right now.

'Lance? Is everything OK? Are you not OK with... this?'

He gives a faintly hysterical cough of laughter. 'Oh my god, you just literally _kissed my ass_ and now you can't even _name_ it, Shiro, this is why I love you, you are just _way_ too adorable. Shit, I kicked you, sorry, did I hurt you?'

'God, no, barely felt it - _adorable_?'

Lance looks at you under thick lashes and your indignation melts away, replaced by pure hunger. 'Like a fuckin' puppy. Of course if you have a _problem_ with that?' He rolls his hips up and parts his legs even wider, presenting himself to you like a gift. 'You can, you know, _kiss my ass_.'

'You're a brat,' you tell him, and get the familiar self-satisfied smirk in response, the one that always makes you want to fuck him somewhere public. He's bad for your sense of civic responsibility and what's worse is he knows all about it, too.

You bend your head down to the warm closeness between his thighs again, pause, and - just so he can feel your breath against his taint, the tip of your nose barely brushing his balls - say, 'Are you _sure_ this is alright?'

' _Ugh_!' Lance's body rocks towards you, but you're ready for that and lean back a bit. 'I'm _fine_ , I promise, you surprised me is all, I didn't think you'd think of it, now please, if you're gonna, then _come on_ , get to it!'

You suspect he's trying to make you spank him, which isn't going to happen. Instead you hold his thighs in either hand and bend him up from the bed a little further. 'Settle,' you say quietly. 'All this bitching isn't getting you anything.'

'Is that an order from the Captain of the Atlas?' says Lance sarcastically, trying to push towards your mouth.

You roll your eyes and give him a solid hickey on the other thigh. He sobs and tries to kick but you hold him steady, then sit back and observe your work, a pinkish print of your lips against the caramel of his leg. Then you look him in the eye again. 'No. It's a _request_ from your _boyfriend_.'

He stops wriggling and relaxes immediately, watching you around his hip because he's bent too far back to see between his legs. He looks... uncertain, somehow. But calm, chewing lightly on his lower lip. 'I'll be good,' he says softly. 'This is me being good.'

You smile at him and nod, then you lean down and lick his hole, wet and firm, and feel his thighs immediately tense in your hands, feel the muscles flex as his toes curl against your shoulders. You grip harder and press the point of your tongue harder into him and he cries out, arches up from his shoulders, pushes against your natural shoulder and the metal socket and it's actually pretty _hard_ to push back. Lance's thighs are _strong_.

And then, ' _AH_ \- Shiro- Shiro, wait.'

You look up, instantly. 'Hurt?'

'No, but if we keep doing it like this it will, I'm gonna wrench something, I need these _off_. Like, really fucking soon. If you don't want touched I promise I'll do my best to keep my hands to myself even if it's gonna be really hard sweet baby jesus on a pogo stick, Shiro-'

You are already climbing up his body and getting rid of the cuffs. 'No, come here and touch me.'

He sits up long enough to stretch, a long, sinuous movement that you watch with no shame whatsoever - although you do wince a little as he stretches his arms above his head, making his shoulders crack, and shakes the pins and needles out of his fingers. Then he reaches for you and drags you on top of him, kissing you desperately. You bury both hands in his hair and surrender completely, but when he releases you - spreading little kisses over your lips for good measure - you have to ask, 'Don't you care where this mouth has been?'

He shrugs nonchalantly. 'You tell me. It's your mouth, baby.'

OK, if that's how he feels about it then you're certainly not going to protest. You pull him into the embrace of your real arm and give him another searching kiss while you send the metal arm off to the nightstand to collect the lube bottle.

He sees what you're doing out of the corner of his eye and falls over himself trying to kiss you, wrap around you like an octopus and talk at the same time. 'Oh my god, Shiro, yes please, fuck me right now, I've been ready for _hours_ , wishing you'd just get back and fill me up already, how do you even make one damn morning _take_ that long?'

He's humping up against you, your own perfect fantasy, but you have to clamp your hands on his hips and make him give you a little distance, which draws a desperate, disappointed whine out of him, so you smear your lips across his collarbone and say, 'Believe me, I don't know, love. _I_ didn't get to come this morning and if you keep doing that I won't last long enough to fuck you at all.'

'Well, I am ready for that fine D right mcfuckin now, so let's do that thing.' Lance beams at you like sunrise and you burst out laughing - it makes it a little hard to put on the condom and lube yourself up, but you manage it. Then you spread your huge metal palm over his chest and push him firmly back against the bed, and he looks up at you like you knocked the wind out of him, even though you were pretty gentle. His adam's apple moves against his throat, and he whispers, 'Shit. Shiro, I... _please_ , Shiro...'

'Patience yields focus,' you tell him and you think he's going to hit you with a pillow for that, but then you take hold of his hips in both hands and line yourself up, leaning down to cover his mouth with yours as you press into him, and any smart remarks he may have prepared dissolve into a little gasping sigh and the sudden slap of his hands grabbing onto your back.

Being inside him feels akin to having your original body back, to being an entire person who had normal people things like career paths and aspirations and boyfriends - it feels like coming home. Everything had gone crazy the minute the Galra arrived, and then he'd come back to Earth and ended up strapped to a table - hope of rescue had been Keith punching out the medics, but _normality_ had been someone taking his Galra arm like it was nothing and bickering easily with Keith over who got to rescue Shiro. Lance has _always_ felt like home.

You're snapped out of your little reverie when he bites your lip and mutters, 'Faster. I was here _all damn morning_ , give me some credit, Shiro,' and you almost come right there.

'Oh, god, Lance, have mercy on an old man.' But you speed up, and are instantly rewarded by the sight of one of Lance's smartass comments dissolving _in situ_ into a string of breathless Spanish curses and his nails digging into your back.

But he tries again. ' _Haaah_... Old man? You're not even thirty! You might even be _younger_ than you wer-'

This is not a particularly sexy topic for you, so maybe it's time you shut him up. You wrap your real hand, still sloppy with lube, around his cock, and move it in time with your thrusts.

He screams, almost loud enough that you'd worry about people coming to investigate, and it's music to your ears but having some poor junior officer bang on your door right now would sort of kill the mood so you push the middle finger of your metal hand between his lips - he splutters a bit, then grabs your wrist firmly and sucks your finger right to the back of his throat.

'Fuck,' you gasp, 'Good boy, you're so good, Lance.'

He moans around your finger, eyes bright as they meet yours, and his free hand scrapes pink lines up your back trying to drag you closer. Oh, he wants to take charge? Alright, you can give him some control. You pull your prosthetic out of his mouth, watching the spit shine on his kiss-swollen lower lip, and sit up, using the floating hand to help Lance straddle your lap.

'New plan, Captain?' he says, in a breathless voice that sends shivers right down to your dick.

You nod. 'That's right. Show me what those legs can do.' You give his cock a little squeeze and he takes a silent bite out of the air, _ai_ , then braces his hands on the wall behind you and starts to ride you for all he's worth.

This was probably not the best idea - what with the punishing pace he's set himself, and his face, the taste and smell of him and the fact that he's rapidly dissolving into a constant, increasingly loud stream of 'Oh fuck yes right there Shiro I love you fuck _ahhh_ I could live on an endless diet of your cock please _please_ Shiro omigod omigod fuckshit _ohfuck_ ' and the like - you're not going to last. You have your arms full of sex incarnated and you are on a mission to orgasm, blast off in three, two, _one_ -

Oh, damn, yeah, that's it, your world is overwhelmed in fire and light spreading from your dick and you slam him on his back with your face in his throat so the entire Garrison doesn't hear how loud you just called him god.

Gradually you are aware of the fact that he's virtually bent in half on his back in your arms, petting your hair in a dazed kind of way, and occasionally going, 'Shiro? Hey, babe? Earth to Shiro?'

'I'm here.' You let him go and pull out of him with a frankly obscene sound, and he wails softly and arches up against you, and that's when you realise. 'Oh. You didn't come yet.'

'I'm fine, honest. That was amazing.'

'Don't be ridiculous.' You shuffle down the bed a bit, take hold of his cock again and he immediately squeaks, his hips jumping off the blankets. Well, this won't take long. You lick your lips and suck him down, and in fact it takes barely two strokes before he's tugging your hair and whining that he's about to go, and two more before he's coming down your throat, wailing and wriggling helplessly.

The quiet afterwards is almost strange. You fetch wet cloths and towels and clean you both up, although really it'll take a proper shower to clean Lance up to his standards, and then you get in bed beside him and wrap you both up in the blankets.

'How'd I do?' he asks from somewhere around your chin.

'You were incredible. That was incredible.' You ruffle his hair and press your lips to the top of his head. 'Although if we do that too often we're going to have to explain to Allura what we do with the arm she invented and honestly I'd rather go up against the druids again.'

'Damn, same. Save it for special occasions, I guess.'

'Also we need to work out something more reliable as an alarm system because I'm still really not comfortable with leaving you restrained without a spotter.'

He laughs softly, drawing little pictures on your chest with his fingertip. 'Well, _part_ of you was here, right?'

'Not _enough_.'

He doesn't say anything for a little while, and you think he's gone to sleep, but then he shifts, and hauls himself up the bed and combs his fingers through your forelock, gone sticky and stringy with sweat. 'You worry way too much, babe,' he says. 'You keep trying to save the entire universe. You need someone to take care of you.'

You smile. One thing, for sure, you can be certain of. 'Well, I have you.'

He grins. 'Yeah. That's true.' Then he kisses you sweetly, his lips soft and gentle, and cuddles down against your side. 'Sleep well, Shiro.'

You do. You really do.


End file.
